Archive for the ‘Abigail’ Category

Remember when I wrote about us Ferberizing our daughter when she was just a little over a year old? And I was all WHY DIDN’T WE DO THIS SOONER and all was good in the world? Like, we put her down and she’d sleep. It was magic. And then right before her second birthday, we turned her crib into a toddler bed after having some new sleep issues…which was the solution we needed at the time.

Then we got the brilliant idea to get her a big girl bed a couple months later so we could lay in bed with her if we needed to (insert maniacal laughter here) since we were doing a lot of book reading before bed.

At some point after the big girl bed transition, we started laying in bed with her while she fell asleep. We apparently must have also mastered smoking crack because that is the worst idea anyone has ever had. Like, WAY worse than Milli Vanlli coming out as lip-syncers. (As an aside, auto-correct wants me to make “lip-syncers” into “LIP-CANCERS.” Whatever you say, auto-correct.) To get to the point, here was our new nighttime routine.

8:30pm – Bathtime
9:00pm – Into her bed with a book.
9:30pm – Lay there while she uses stall tactics and slowly goes to sleep.
9:52pm – I fall asleep.
10:34pm – I wake up and she’s sleeping and I’m crabby and groggy and then I go to bed, where I am unable to fall asleep until 12:45am.

Repeat the next night, but insert the hubs and SO ON.

Yeah. That wasn’t working for anyone but Abby. The hubs and I would basically get an hour or two after Abby went to bed to watch our TV shows or get work done or talk like adults. Not working.

So, after an exceptionally long Sunday night of stall tactics resulting in the hubs not getting to bed until almost 11pm, he declared this routine to no longer be valid. I agreed but didn’t actually think we were going to do anything about it yet. Have you dealt with a three year old before? They’re assholes and SUPER GOOD at getting what they want all the time. I mean, I know in the back of my head that with all the things we have on the horizon (selling our house, possibly moving in with the in-laws (that’s a whole other post), moving into a new house, maybe having another baby) – that this problem really needs to be resolved before it looks like she’s getting shit on from multiple sources.

So last night, I came up with a plan: Abby would earn a piece of a puzzle every night she fell asleep without us in bed with her. Once she completes the puzzle, we’ll go to Target and buy her a Princess bike. (Yay bribery!)

(I printed out this picture and put it above her bed to look at when she’s having a hard time.)

Last night….ugh. It did not go well. We tried just reading her a book and then being like, “Peace out, bro!” but it did not go well. So many tears, so many screams of “MAMAAAAAA! MAMA DADA MAMAAAAAAAAAAA!” After 20 minutes of this, we finally resigned to me sitting on the floor next to her bed while she tried to go to sleep. Every once in a while, she would roll over and sniffle, “Am I doing a good job, mama?” and then I would die a little inside. “Yep, you’re doing an awesome job, lady. So proud of you.” Then she would roll back over. Finally, when I thought she was asleep, I got up and started to walk out of the room. She moved a bit in bed, and as I had my hand on the doorknob, she quietly said “Bye bye, mama” and I said “Goodnight” and that was it. No tears. She rolled over and fell asleep. She only woke once during the night, and I went in and gave her a sip of water, tucked her back in and she was back to sleep.

Tonight is round two. The hubs is going to sit a little closer to the door tonight. We’ll keep inching towards the door until we’re just outside it. Then we’ll sit outside the door with it closed. Then we’re done. (I think?) Thanks Supernanny for the idea, BTW.

Seriously. Our seats were in the middle of the theater. All Abby wanted to do was dance. We danced, she shushed me for singing too much, and had a great time.

If you’ve never been to a Yo Gabba Gabba show before, I highly recommend it. We went to Sesame Street Live a week before, and the difference in how much she enjoyed the shows was immeasurable. It was really like having the show happen right in front of you. All of her favorite songs, and nothing but kids have an awesome time!

In case you want to see if it’s coming to your town – check out the show’s site: www.yogabbagabbalive.com. Like I said – we’ve gone for the past couple of years and Abby has loved it both times. Couldn’t recommend it more!!

On Saturday, the Hubs, Abby and I headed to the blessed Mall of America to do some Christmas shopping. As with any trip to the MOA, we are required (by unwritten law) to take Abby on three rides, at minimum. She talks about these rides pretty much every other day. It’s adorable, but also CAN I GO TO THE MALL WITHOUT GOING ON RIDES? After the rides, we headed to Noodles for Abby’s mac & cheese fix. As we were leaving with full bellies, I went to hike up my jeans, and hulk smashed the belt loop right out of my pants. DAMMIT. Strike one.

We wove our way through shoppers and some of the best people watching I’ve seen since the state fair. We searched through Nordstrom Rack for a gift for my mom, then made our way to Marshall’s and decided we’d had enough of the crowds already thankyouverymuch. It was at our decision to depart that I realized my jacket wasn’t on the stroller anymore. Dear God. Strike TWO. My angry meter had reached about a 9. We backtracked and eventually made our way back to the Rack, where I walked through the areas Abby insisted on pushing the stroller. BY HERSELF, Mama. No! Don’t touch it! I’m doing it BY MYSELF. Aye. Lo and behold, my coat was laying across a rack; apparently someone found it and propped it up. THANK GOD.

We headed home, where I decided to go ahead and get this shopping over and done with. AMAZON, I love you. Santa’s purchases have been made, as well as some other gifts that needed to be in my hands.

This weekend, my bestie Martini was in town. We had plenty of things to take care of while she was here, mostly on the wedding planning front because she’s getting married in about a month. (Eeeee!) And, being the responsible Matron Duchess of Honor that I am, I hadn’t purchased a dress yet.

Sidenote: Yes. I am straight out refusing to be called a Matron of Honor because it sounds like I’m 50. Nothing against 50-year-olds, but EFFING YUCK.

So, we shopped (I found my dress and I want to wear it all the time), we drank, we stayed up late and laughed and told stories…it was just the break I needed from reality. She is by all means my best friend, my sister, and one of the few people in life that knows me to my core.

At the same time, I have a new best friend. I knew we would be at some point, but when she said it my heart burst out of my chest only to swallow me whole. She said it once while we were shopping with Auntie Martini on Sunday, and again last night while we were falling asleep in her bed.

“Mama? You’re my best friend.”

I know she’s only 2 (a month away from being 3), and that this feeling she has for me may not last forever, but it is one of the most wonderful things I could ever imagine her saying to me. I hope she does always think of me as her best friend. She will always be mine. (As long as Martini doesn’t mind sharing the title.)